Everything to Me
by nanimotienen
Summary: Snapshots of moments for Fenton and Laura's life. Not necessarily in order.
1. Going Out

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hardy Boys (Franklin W

Note: Originally posted as _happychica._

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: OK, I've decided, for lack of a better way to post this that I'm going to do a short set of drabbles. I hope it doesn't ruin the feeling; they're just too short to really stand on their own.

xxx

"Don't look!" Fenton Hardy laughed as his girlfriend slammed the bedroom door shut, leaving him in the hall.

"Laura, you've been in there for hours, just come out already."

"It's been twenty minutes, Fenton, and I'm not ready yet!" Fenton sighed as he leaned against the opposite wall. His cases had been taking up more and more of his time lately, so he'd made an extra effort to ensure he could spend this Saturday with his girl. Now the day had finally arrived, Laura discovered she had her own conflict. She didn't have anything to wear. _A matter of opinion, _thought Fenton. He always thought Laura looked great, whether she was all dressed up for a party or in old jeans and one of his shirts. _Whoever said love was blind was obviously not trying to build confidence._

"Laura, we're just going to the park, you can wear whatever you want," Fenton called through the door, hoping she would open it. "We can come back before dinner and change." _I really should have reserved a later time,_ he thought dryly.

"I want to look nice. It's only polite." Fenton laughed.

"Honey, you always look nice to me." Fenton leaned across the hall and pushed the door open a few inches. "Or is there someone else you're trying to impress?" Laura blushed, and pushed the door closed again, locking it. She could hear her boyfriend laughing again.

"If that's how you're gonna be, I'll be done in five minutes." True to her word, Laura appeared five minutes later wearing jeans and a T-shirt Fenton had lost nearly a month ago. "Ready?" Fenton nodded. As Laura opened the door, Fenton pulled her into a tight hug. "What was that for?"

"Because I can."

xxx


	2. The Beach

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hardy Boys (Franklin W

Note: Originally posted as _happychica._

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

xxx

"It's so…huge!" Laughing, Laura ran down the beach, splashing into the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. As a little girl, she remembered begging her parents to bring her to the beach, but they'd never once had the chance to grant that request, much to Laura's disappointment. Refusing defeat, the eight-year-old had scoured the library for every book on this place, everything from marine biological research papers to fictional children's picture books. All of them fell short of the real thing.

So when Fenton asked her if she'd like to go along, Laura had been as excited as a child on Christmas Eve. The night before they were supposed to leave she hadn't sleep a wink. She knew she had been driving her fiancé mad, but Fenton had just smiled and answered her questions, finally ordering them to bed at eleven, thoroughly exhausted by her questions. But that had been yesterday; today, they were here, and it was better than any Christmas so far!

Thoroughly wet, Laura splashed out onto the beach a few minutes later, still grinning. Fenton had stretched out on the warm sand and was nearly asleep when Laura finally flopped down next to him. His week had been far too hectic to be real. Didn't the criminals of this city ever sleep? No, that wouldn't fit the way of the city. New York really needed some sleeping pills, at least so the LEOs didn't drop dead from exhaustion. _Yeah, better to get shot, _thought Fenton, finally slipping off to sleep.

Watching her fiancé drifting off, Laura pushed the sand around with her hands, enjoying the feel of the grainy substance. Yet another thing the books didn't cover very well. Suddenly, Laura got an idea. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she began to pile sand on top of her sleeping friend…

xxx

A/N: Well, they are snapshots…


	3. Mondays

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hardy Boys (Franklin W

Note: Originally posted as _happychica._

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

xxx

"Franklin, Joseph, knock it off this instant!"

Fenton smiled from his seat in the kitchen, glad it wasn't him who had angered his wife this time. She really was a sweet person most of the time, mild mannered and polite as could be. But she truly frightened Fenton when she was angry, and their boys had made the mistake of roughhousing in the living room on the wrong day. Fenton knew Laura's day had been bad and had been sure to keep a distance between his wife and himself; not enough to anger, but enough to allow some head start should things get too unpleasant. Frank and Joe, however, had not been so wise.

A few minutes later Laura entered the kitchen looking tired. She'd sent the boys to bed without dinner, something she rarely did. Frank had looked upset, and little Joe had started sniffling, though Frank had dragged him upstairs before any tears started. She knew she'd cave and bring something up for the boys to eat, but really, couldn't they behave, just once? Leaning her head against the cabinet, Laura smiled when she felt her husband hug her from behind. "Should I do dinner tonight?" She knew he was trying to help, but she shook her head nonetheless.

"No, but if you could go tell the boys they're allowed to come down and eat when it's ready, that would be nice." Fenton gave his wife a small squeeze before heading upstairs to deliver the message, sorry God had invented Mondays.


	4. Sam Radley

"Good Lord Fenton, you'd think you'd just met, not that you'd been married for a couple decades." Sam Radley had always found it amusing that his friend and partner, Fenton Hardy, was still head-over-heels for his wife. Most of the marriages Sam knew had fallen apart, his own included. But the Hardy's proved there was an exception to every rule, grouping, or happening.

"I think you're just jealous." _He's always been perceptive,_ thought Sam, taking another swig from his beer. _Perceptive and lucky; damn right I'm jealous. But he deserves it, he's a good man. _Standing, Fenton bid his friend good-bye and left the bar, leaving Sam to wonder how anything that good survived in this world.


	5. Mood Swings

Fenton flopped down on the couch, sighing deeply. He'd been expecting this; Laura had gone almost the same thing when she'd been pregnant with Frank. Still, the mood swings and increasingly strange cravings were starting to get to him. Stretching out, the detective propped his head up on one of the pillows and tried to get some sleep. Laura's moods, though prone to changing rapidly, followed a basic pattern. Today she'd been sweet and apologetic, trying her hardest to help when she could. Tomorrow would be Hell.


	6. A Fighter

"Laura, just calm-"

"No I won't Fenton! Our boys are out there, God knows where, in the hands of those fiends. How can anyone be so calm; how can _you_ be so calm?"

"Panicking won't bring them back faster."

"So?"

"So when the call comes in, I need to be able to keep my head so I can bring them home safe!"

Laura stared at her husband. In all the years they'd been married, she'd seen him lose his temper a few times, but _never_ with her. Not because she was perfect, but because he knew she wasn't. But now, with someone else's life on the line, his sons' no less, even the level-headed Fenton Hardy was having trouble

Sighing, Fenton hugged his wife. "I'm sorry, but we have to be strong. When they get home, they'll be upset, no matter what they say. It'll only make it worse if we're fighting."

Laura's response was interrupted by the phone. Without letting go, Fenton picked up the phone, listening grimly. Hanging up, the detective let out a relieved breath. "They've got the boys; they're bringing them home now."

"Thank heavens."

"Come on, let's get a bath ready. Ezra said they found them in the rain."


End file.
